Assassin's Creed Black Flag: Beyond Creed
by VictoriaVQ
Summary: Merissa Iseliandas moves to Nassau to start a new life and forget about her past, hoping to sever her ties with the Singapore pirates and Assassins. But when she arrives, trouble seems to follow her and it looks like the Assassin's nor pirates weren't going to let her go without a fight. And it gets worse when Edward Kenway, James Kidd and the whole lot get involved. OC's & OCCness
1. Welcome to Nassau

January 28th, 1710

We had finally arrived in Nassau, Bahamas early this morning. It wasn't the sounds of bells signaling our arrival, but the smell of foreign land, unimaginable heat, filth, and rum that filled my nostrils. I came out of the tent we've created on deck and peered at the island though a spyglass. We weren't far, that was for certain. But even from our distance, the stench of Nassau traveled wide. My heart filled with excitement and anxiety as well. We had come here to start life anew and I hoped that we wouldn't have the same trouble as we did back in Singapore. Even mentioning it now makes me uneasy. I don't want to go back to the life we once knew. I don't want my son to know anything about the Assassins, or the horrible Templars or the war they have waged on each other for the past many centuries. In my mind, it was time to forget the past and keep moving forward. Nassau was the first step to that continuation.

I rushed back into the tent to wake up my son, Makara. I knew he didn't like being woken up before the sun peered out, but I knew we had to prepare ourselves before docking. Or else we would be the last ones off the ship.

I gently shook his shoulder, using my other hand to sweep the hair covering his forehead. "Good morning, _kaun_. Time to wake up—we'll be stopping at Nassau very soon. So rise and shine!" A little bit of a harder shake and he was awake, rubbing his eyes groggily. I chuckled a little, seeing his young face cascaded with locks of unkempt, dark hair.

"Good morning, _Meak_. Are we there yet?" he asked though a yawn.

"Almost. We need to pack our things. Go tidy yourself up and meet me back here, okay?"

"Okay."

With that he left the tent. I sighed and let my head fall downward, staring at the wooden deck of the ship. So many feelings, so many thoughts, so many preparations and so little time! My head was starting to hurt a little. I could only hope my son could adjust to our new home here halfway around the world. Surely it was for the better, but how much more decent is this pirate-run island our homeland? Will it be safe enough to live in; sanitary enough to fish and buy foods; supply enough medicine to heal and stop the spread of disease? I could only hope everything will be okay once we reach Nassau.

_Later that day…_

An hour had passed since I woke Makara up and we've packed all our belongings since. And finally the ship docked at port. People began filing out onto the dock. We followed suit.

Makara looked eyes-widened like an eagle at the entirety of our new hometown. He had never seen so many open markets, people, even such a city that was booming with so much business, soldiers, and pirates. As we moved though the city, he caught a glimpse of some women—wenches—doing their business with fellow pirates. I immediately pulled his attention elsewhere, pointing towards a market full of fruits and fish. A smile dashed on his face and excitingly he asked me, "_Meak_, can we buy some food? I'm really hungry! Please!"

"Alright, go take a look at what you want. I'll be right there." He ran off with his little feet towards the crates of food. I knew he would be hungry.

I let out a silent sigh and internally berated myself. Already I was feeling the pressures of this new life weigh on my shoulders. I would have to be careful wherever we go, or as a matter-of-fact, where Makara went. God knows what Nassau has in store for foreigners—especially with all these piratical maniacs, idiotic soldiers of the "crown", and (God damn!) those disgusting wenches and whores. The last thing I need is to have my son loose his virginity before his teens.

We went and bought a few bunches of fruits and some dried meat—enough to last for today and tomorrow. After finishing our breakfast, we went to find _Nassau Taverna_, our supposed new home here. It took us a while, having no idea where we were headed. Asking around wasn't too much of a problem. It seemed that there was enough of a mix of color and faces for a few new Asians to mingle in.

Finally we reached the _Taverna_, as per its name, a local tavern said to be popular with the locals and even some passerby scoundrels of the seas. It was a good thing we arrived early, as the place wasn't open for business yet, which would give us some time to settle down. As we walked up the steps I spotted someone behind the building. It sounded like dish washing.

"Hello! Sebastian, is that you there?" A face popped out and by the smile on his face I knew I was in the right place. I went up and hugged him tightly, finally relieved to be with my husband again.

"It's been forever since I've seen you", I told him. I truly did miss him.

"What do you mean forever? It's only been three months!" he retorted with a smile—_that _smile that he knew I adored. God, did I marry him because of those cunning lips? He let go of me and met my eyes, which were shining with longing and love. He opened his mouth to say something, but decided not to. And he knew why, as did I. We didn't need words to express our feelings. We trusted each other and we loved each other. Words, according to him, were fluff to cover up the truth. Action brought change and the day he looked into my eyes passionately and slipped that gold ring onto my hand I knew I couldn't fight his contention—at least not that one. Love was the most powerful force that brought us together and it was only made stronger when a certain little monkey came into the world.

"But I did miss a certain little rascal!" he exclaimed as he ran towards Makara and lifted him off the ground and into the air, Makara's happy laughter accompanying the action. "How has my little monkey been, eh? Did you give _Meak_ a difficult time?"

He shook his head adamantly. "I didn't not!" he retaliated and with honesty too. Makara had always been a boy of good wits, not wanting too much and always thoughtful of others around him, just like his father. Although he did show a few instances of devious qualities that proved to be as expected of an eight year old, the way he carried them made his image that of a sharp youngling. It also made me realize that my time spent with him as a child was limited, as within a few more years he was going to change and become a young man. Oh how I dread those moments despite the fact that they were far in time from now. I love him the way he is now, as my little ray of hope, my little baby boy (and forever will be). But he is now eight years of age, and ten and three years is much closer than his first year of life.

We laughed at his response. Sebastian set him down, but not before demanding a kiss on the cheek which Makara willing performed flawlessly. He loved his father, anyone could voucher that much. I remember him saying one day, "_I love _Meak_ and _Aupouk_! Forever and ever!_" And as I remembered this memory, I smiled with genuinely than I had in the last few months. Seeing my family happy together always brought warmness to my heart. At least I know that there is light within this dark world.

"And where will we stay, love?" I asked him.

"There's a cabin behind the _Taverna_ that we'll live in. It hasn't been much, but with you and our little monkey I think it'll be boring around here anymore."

"Hey! I'm not a monkey!" Makara pouted.

"No, you are not a monkey, but you are most definitely _Meak's_ monkey", I said pinching his cheeks and kissing his forehead.

The arduous task of unpacking unraveled when we entered the cabin Sebastian mentioned—our new home. It was enough for one small family, with a kitchen, a single bedroom with a double decked bed, and a tight but doable dining room. It wasn't the best of all houses, but at least it wasn't a wrecked shelter full of cat sized rats, disease or cries of hunger and pain. It was enough to live in, a small but comfortable place to call home.

Surprisingly getting ourselves settled went faster than I intended. By noon we were out and about town looking for foods to buy for the home and the tavern. Sebastian stayed behind to tend to the bar. By the time we finished it was mid afternoon with the sun at its highest. I just finished buying a bundle of grapes when someone accidentally stumbled into me.

"Ugh!" I went flying to the ground, the fruit I bought splayed about around me. Apparently I had hit my lower back first, which hurt a lot. I heard Makara call out for me. Then I felt a hand take mine and lifted me from the ground. Adjusting my eyes from the fall, I met the brown orbs of a young man—or lad I should say by his appearance—who I guessed had just walked into me.

"Sorry 'bout that mate", he apologized. My eyes slightly widened from hearing his voice. Although his appearance—an expensive leather jacket with fine details at the collar, a red bandana wrapped around the head to lift in place the many braids that adorned the side of the face, trousers, high kneed boots and a diagonal scar on the cheek—seemed convincing enough, I had a strong inkling that this _lad_ was anything but. I had seen it so many times in Singapore, where women passed on as pirates dressed in men's clothing and acting like them. It was one of the only ways to get around piracy, unless you had the utmost audacity to go about as a woman (which many didn't). Despite my strong guess, I kept my mouth shut about that part and went on with the flow of the conversation.

"Oh, it's okay, young man. Today just seems to be very busy and I suspected something like this would happen eventually."

"Well as repayment let me help ya and I'll pay whateva's been damaged. 'Reckon that be alright wit ya?"

I smiled. At least he—she—knew how to be a gentleman. "Thank you. I would appreciate that." After that fiasco, Makara and I headed straight back to the _Taverna_. I wanted to make sure Sebastian isn't being trampled over by customers because if the market was full of people, I would bet a thousand Reales that the tavern was too. My hypothesis was confirmed when we arrived. Standing and sitting about were scores of people ranging from merchants to pirates to local citizens. God, was it always this busy in Nassau?

I literally threw the groceries into the back of the tavern and ran straight into the bar looking for Sebastian. I spotted him on the other side of the deck. The moment he returned I rushed and asked, "What do you need me to do?"

The rest of the afternoon remained bustling until late evening, when the stars began to show their twinkling light. It had been absolutely busy, but well business made. There had been over one hundred customers that day, mostly due to a few pirate ships docking in Nassau today, and since _Nassau Taverna_ was one of the closer areas to drink near shore. As soon as the last customer was on his merry way out, we started cleaning the place up. Makara had been helpful to put away and organize the groceries—which I completely forgot about—and clean dishes and mugs in the kitchen outback. Like I said, a thoughtful little critter he was.

By the time we finished I was ready to hit the sheets and send my brain to the Dream World. But there was the question of who would sleep where.

"I'll sleep on the floor", Sebastian proposed. "Three blankets and I'll be fine. You two need the beds more than me."

"No, no, we're not going to do that. You've been working your head off the entire day—and don't say you didn't, I saw you—and you need to rest. What if tomorrow becomes busier than today? You can forget about working with that back pain from the floor." Here's the thing—when it comes to situations like this we always end up arguing, worrying for the other's comfort and wellness. But in my opinion and from my experience, if one hasn't slept peacefully and painlessly the next day they'll turn into the cousin of good old Grecian Ogres.

"But you've been at sea for how many months without a bed?" he countered. "Trust me, just take it. I'll be fine."

"No you won't. I know for a fact that deprived of a good night's rest and you'll be under the prick tomorrow morning."

Makara pulled at my trousers. "Can I ask you something important?" I nodded. "What if we do this; I can sleep with you since I'm small and _Meak_ is small too. We'll take the bottom bed and _Aupouk_ can take the top bed. Then everyone gets a bed!"

"Are you sure?" Sebastian asked.

Makara nodded. "I'm okay sleeping with _Meak_. We did the same thing on the ship, so I'm used to it." He then went up to his father and gave his waist a hug. "You need to rest, _Aupouk. _Promise me?" He held out his pinkie finger. Sebastian hooked his own smallest finger with our son's. "Promise." A glance at me and I knew what he wanted to say: smart kid. So we went to bed afterwards.

I woke up the next morning, stretching like a cat and yawning like a lion, to smell of Nassau. Makara and Sebastian had already awoken and seemed to be cooking something in the kitchen. Breakfast—cinnamon seasoned dried fish with tea—was quick as we began to become busy early that morning again, as it did the entire week. My thoughts sometimes trailed back to the lad I saw the other day. It was understandable that to be a pirate one must be a man, truly or disguised. Was it more dangerous to be caught here than in Singapore though? What were the consequences if caught by one of the royal empires? I shook my head ridding my mind of the thoughts. I had to put my past away—no need to remember them now, not if they weren't going to help me.

I didn't let my mind trail to them again until eight days passed since I arrived in Nassau…until I saw the young lad again at our tavern. I went up to him and asked if he wanted a drink.

"A bottle o'rum would do", he replied. I nodded and went to go get his order. Coming back, I checked to make sure I didn't miss any empty mugs. As I edged closer to the young man, I spotted something attached to his wrist. The sight made my stomach churn and the bundle of nerves in my head pulse with anxiety. It was clearly marked on the instrument the lad strapped to himself—the symbol that I refused to remember; refused to go back to; refused to believe in and abide my life by. Fate was cruel and enduring. I hoped that this new life would be worth the struggle, but now that I know this…_God damn it_, I spat at myself. _Assassins. Great…_"


	2. Just A Hunch

It wasn't his custom to willingly come to a tavern unless he had reason to, piratical reasons even, but James Kidd had a suspicious feeling about the woman he bumped into the other day. Her face was first of all a new addition to the many citizens of Nassau. But Nassau wasn't filled with many Asian faces and if they were from nations like China and Japan, they'd be merchants, not citizens. He had also noted her clothing as well-loose tunic, trousers, and knee-high boots. And exposed on the underside of her arms were what looked to be several years worth of strap marks, though nothing was attached to her at the moment. It may just be a coincidence, but Kidd had to confirm it himself.

"Hello there and welcome to Nassau Taverna, Could I get you something to drink?"

The young man looked at the lady-jet black hair, porcelain skin and some oddly colored green eyes-the same eyes that reacted to his voice the other day when he apologized.

"A bottle o'rum would do", he replied. She nodded and headed back behind the counter to get his order. Meanwhile, Kidd took a look around the place. It wasn't going to be busy until at least another hour or so, so he had some time to be with this lady for a bit.

Suddenly a pang of sleepiness swept over his nerves. Instinctively his lips opened to release a yawn and his hand rose to cover his mouth. He hadn't been able to get enough sleep lately and the effects have been continuous. In the midst of that moment he hadn't realized that the young lady's face was distorted into a shocked expression, though she hid it quick as lightning. She returned back to her neutral look. As she approached him, he saw a glint of alertness in her eyes which he hadn't seen present not a few minutes ago. Hmm...why was that?

"Here you go, sir", she said handing him the glass bottle. She left as quickly as she came. Kidd decided to stick around for a bit to observe the lass a little more.

Noon time quickly came and suddenly scores of people started filing into the tavern. Orders were going out like candle light to a hurricane wind. The young lady as well as a young man were darting in and out of the bar and kitchen, serving rum, fruits and other appetizers of the day. Occasionally a little boy no older than ten came out of to collect dishes and mugs from the customers. Kidd assumed this child would likely have belonged to one of the two workers, since the features on his face were strikingly alike in some areas to them both. It wouldn't be surprisng if they were all related, but that he didn't know yet.

Maybe sticking around a little more while wouldn't hurt. He didn't have any contracts to complete momentarily and pirating at this time of year was as rabidly slow as a dead dog stuck in its grave. But if his suspicions about this woman were correct...

* * *

><p>January 29th, 1714<p>

I still couldn't believe the lad was still out there! He had been at the tavern for over (I bet) at least five hours; the longest customer Sebastian claimed to have only lasted a half and an hour before being kicked out and unwelcomed back (he was a trouble maker from what I heard). And since he entered the Taverna, he has kept the same calm and solituded expression, much like a bald eagle stalking prey. My thoughts continued to go back to the idea of...of Assassins. Was he truly part of the Creed? If he were affiliated with the Assassins, what business did he have here? I doubted he came all the way here just to have a drink and stare at me...considering his possible true gender made me shudder and fill with unpleasantness. I shook it off immediately. No, Assassins always had targets, whether they be looking around or assigned a kill. My skills haven't rusted up just yet and I had a stronger feeling towards the former. If he was here to observe me, I had to take cautious measures; can't make any sudden or suspicious moves or else I would expect something to happen soon. But he had clearly shown his Hidden Blades! Or was it his way of giving me a hint, a message even? I could guess endless possibilities, but I'd rather not find out.

As I took some mugs from customers to refill, my mind drifted to yesterday's occurance. It had been so hot and I rolled up the sleeves of my tunic. Having done that made myself feel much cooler, that was for sure. But what else was missing...missing from this puzzle? Arms...arms...arms...Oh God! My forearms! I quickly went to the kitchen, settled the tray down and lifted my sleeves up. I haven't even thought about the hidden blades I used to carry around with me. I coudln't remember a day before boarding for Nassau not wearing them. The years of wear had clearly shown its marks. God damn it! How intolerable of me! What was I thinking, going outside exposed like that? I internally kicked myself and spat every spiteful cuss I knew at myself. Had I not learned anything from the Assassins?

Now I know why I got this lad out there suspicous. I better keep myself covered at all costs and choose my words carefully. Assassins are well known for their ability to disguise perfectly with the crowd and rouse no hint of their presence. I should know that better than anyone else.


	3. Wit

JULY 30th, 1714—After gathering my belongings, I headed out to the markets in Nassau's centre. We had run out of food quicker than we expected this week, so I decided to head out after a sweep of pirates stopped by to restock on our raw materials.

More than once as I walked down the streets, I checked my sleeves, making sure they reached to my wrists, if not lower, and never rolled up. If it was a warm to mildly hot day, I'd stick to a chiffon tunic. On cold days (only cold because of seasonal winds) I'd throw on an extra layer of animal hide. Either way, my old marks were covered, but that still didn't stop James Kidd from visiting me every month, noticeably every last Monday of each month, which I did find a bit strange. But the man—_woman_—was an assassin and assassins had priorities, if not habitual qualities as well.

Speaking of women, my suspicions had been confirmed one day in March; on Monday the 26th (I have no clue as to remembering this date, but I do). I was out in the markets like I was now and spotted a tired-looking pirate-assassin wandering through the markets, probably wondering what to buy to load up for the next voyage to sea. I made sure to blend with the crowd and moved around Kidd, making sure he didn't see me. Luckily the aisles full of fruits stole his attention as I walked passed. I then reached a fish shop to buy some fresh seafood. As I turned to leave, I spotted Kidd heading towards the direction of an abandoned building. Now what business does he have there?

Curiosity got the better of me and I followed, making sure I wasn't spotted when he turned to check his back. Once he opened the door and went inside, I crept towards the building (with my groceries!) and tried to slip through the door. But I found it locked. Swift—I had to give him at least that. So I abandoned my groceries nearby a tree and began to climb it, reaching the highest outstretched branch just a meter's distance from the building's rooftop. From there, I could clearly see a crevice though one of its broken down windows. With a jump, I landed softly on the wooden roof, careful of my weight. As I made my way to the crevice, my memories jumped back to my days as an assassin. Our Mentor had vigorously trained us in extreme stealth. Making sure we weren't detected, especially on rooftops, as to perform the act of pure silence. Not only did it take skill, but muscle movement and precision. We spent months just perfecting such a trademark move, but it paid off as we eliminated our Templar enemies during the time. In fact, it was our secret weapon, a nice touch alongside our code of conduct.

As I positioned myself on the crevice of the window, I spotted James Kidd diagonal from my view, sitting on a bale of tied up hay. With a labored sigh, he slipped off his red bandanna and wiped his sweaty forehead, while letting loose the braids on the side of his face; the little bun behind his head stayed put. Then his hands came up to his white blouse and opened the flaps, revealing a tattoo and a small, but distinguishable cleavage, a thin breast line. I let go of a sigh I didn't know I was holding. My mind was mesmerized just looking at the figure several meters below. At long last my suspicions were correct! James Kidd is a woman! Although she didn't have reddened lips or long, draping hair, it was evident even in this form that she was of female gender—and a pirate and an assassin. God, how the hell did this lass manage such a life? Playing the role of a rouge and a liberator while at the same time hiding her sex—it was amazing how she was pulling it off and a _captain_ too. I gave out another breath as the creed reeled in my mind. _ La shay' haqiqah, koulo shay' moumkin. Nothing is true, everything is permitted._ The creed kept repeating itself in my mind. How could I have forgotten? As long as there is a world to live in, there was the ability to do anything. I internally thanked Kidd for reminding me of such. Making sure I wasn't detected, I carefully jumped to the branch and made my way down to my groceries and sprinted back to the _Nassau Taverna, _triumphant of my new discovery.

Little did I know, that was her plan all along.


	4. Motherhood

AUGUST 1714-"So what'll it be lads? A life o'piracy ya want-rich with freedom, gold and leisure? Or ya wanta be controlled like tatterdemalions by all the empires on earth?" The crowd of buccaneers itching for adventure and plunder began talking quietly amongst each other, awed by the choices Captain Kidd had just offered. "But ya better choose wisely before ya join me crew", Kidd continued on, glaring into the eyes of every sailor with expectation. "Freedom and liberty I'll give ya, aye, but if ya cock robins can't do any smidge of work, I'll be throwin' ya off me ship faster than you can kiss yer shipmate's arse!"

Done with his persuasively threatening speech, the young and mighty Captain James Kidd decided to head back to his new ship. _Elysium's Wrath_, he named her, was the recent major steal Kidd and his crew had taken this month. Originally an English brig, the _Wrath_ is a well rounded ship with a large and strong hull, and a high mast that sailed the black flag proud. Now hosting a new family, Kidd already felt at home...at sea, of course.

As he climbed onto the deck, he took a quick sweep around. His crew knew better than to laze around and leave their work unattended. Either you get reprimanded with a pissed-off Captain Kidd in yer face, or to set as an example, get thrown into the sea and be left as chum for some hungry ol' sharks. Other captains wouldn't give a rat's arse if their crew be screwin' around like deranged bullocks. But Captain Kidd had other plans in mind. Under attack, a reckless crew of idiots would lead to a quick takeover by any of the three empires reigning the Caribbean Seas and West Indies...and a speedy execution as well. However, an organized group of pirates (as he described his crew) would easily take down any brig, frigate, and at times, Man o' Wars as well, which is exactly what he and his crew have been doing for the past year at sea. All the constant screamin', yellin' and what other captains saw was "abuse" had paid off in all their incapacitating "expeditions". Not one ship thus far escaped the deathly grips of Captain James Kidd and his piratical crew.

Satisfied with the crew's work, he made his way to the captain's cabin where he retrieved a small package from under his bed and attached it to one of his holsters. He would need it later. In a flash he was back on land and was heading towards the tavern up the area, intent on gaining some more information on a certain bar maid.

* * *

><p>I know he had stressed it many times to Sebastian and I, but I could not swallow down the idea of not getting our son a present for his birthday. As I reminisced through the many memories we shared together, I particularly remembered our time back in Singapore, in Pulau Ubin Village. That time he had just turned three years of age and God! did he talk! He had also become an expert at running like a wild chicken too. One time I nearly hit him across the face for running all the way to the harbor without my knowing. What a troublemaker he was, indeed. But it was also during this time when he made me realize something I never thought deeply, or realized yet. Makara had run up to me one day, holding many pretty wild flowers (some were spilling out of his grip, leaving a thick trail or picked flowers behind) that had grown on the forest floor. I thanked him and asked him why he had given me so many flowers. He told me with a smile, "<em>Meak<em> is so pretty! _Meak _loves me forever and ever! All the flowers show how much _Meak_ love me! But I don't carry them all. Too many!"

It didn't occur to me yet, but when Makara smiled to me-his beautiful wide smile that stretched from ear to ear-and the lovely sparkle in his eyes, an emotional wave overcame my being. The next think I knew, I had Makara in my arms, hugging him tightly and had tears of joy spilling from my eyes. Neither of us said anything that moment; we just stayed there in each other's arms enjoying the warmth exerted from big body to small body. He then snuggled under my chin and I affectionately caressed his cheek and hair, holding him like a baby, and whispered, _"Meak sraleanh kaun nasa, sraleanh kaun rhaut."_ I now knew I wasn't here in this world to look after this boy, our Makara. As his parent and his mother, I had to show him the ways of the world, fill his brain with knowledge and rack his body with skill; to show him how to make his own decisions for his better good and teach him about humanity. I love my baby more than I do anyone else on the planet-I don't know how else to describe it-and it makes me joyful when he smiles genuinely, purely of love and wonderment. The only way I could truly describe such emotion and devotion is if my son were in need of new eyes, I would give him mine own. If he needed a liver, a heart, or another limb, I would give it to my child without even thinking once. That is how much I love him and I am willing to sacrifice my own strength, patience and my own life to see him grow and flourish. No matter what I will never all that smile of his to wither to dust or his heart crushed to pieces. That is why I took him away from the Assassins, away from their teachings and hostilities with the Templars. I have witnessed the comings of kings and the fall of empires because of this centuries old war. Never will I want to expose my son to such horrendous a conflict.

Running away has given us leeway for me to teach Makara differently, something that I enjoy immensely with him. He proves it in his everyday activities, from his duties at the _Tavern_ to his reading skills in the evening. Everyone who comes compliments us of our little worker, who today, will be celebrating his ninth year of living. He has done more than we have asked of him. From the bottom of our hearts neither Sebastian nor I could thank him enough. So as a present, we decided to give him something useful, since Sebastian had promised to teach him some mathematics and sciences while I help him perfect his English and secondary languages. To get around our world with any kind of power required a large amount of wealth, influence and equally as important-education. As most are illiterate, those who are taught the subjects of wealthy schoolboys have the opportunity to live better lifestyles than their previous generations. And knowing more than one language allows one to travel and live about with ease-something I've learned myself. And something I want Makara to have advantage of.

After stashing our little surprise, we wnt back to serving various customer from all walks of life, including the infamous bastard child and pirate Captain James Kidd.

"Good morrow, Merissa. I hope t'day you be good 'n bus'ness", she said leaning on her left side on the bar's counter top.

"Aye, Mr. Kidd, to-day's not as bad as the rest. Busy as usual", I answered while wiping the counter's top. I eyed the greatcoat that Kidd wore, distinctively remembering the opportunity of having a little peek a few weeks ago. Captain James Kidd, a woman, a queen amongst all pirates of the Caribbean Seas. Quite a fearsome person I have to admit, but not the first of her kind.

"So would you like a drink then, Mr. Kidd?"

"Aye, I would. Say, Merissa, is that lil' lad still here?"

Damn the gods! I don't wanta tell her of our relation, but I was afraid of a ruse from one of them drunk pirates who happened to be a regular here. They already knew of m relationship with Makara and Sebastian. I can't risk me cover being blown anytime soon and especially not by those rutty buccaneers. "You mean my son?"

Her eyebrows raised. "He's yer son, eh? 'Good boy ya got there. Raised 'im well." She flashed a smirk, her eyes shining a spark of impression.

"Why thank you. He's a diligent boy, that one." As if summoned by my statement Makara came out with a tray full of food. He hurriedly distributed them and went to grab empty mugs for refills. Kidd kept her eyes on Makara as he walked around the tavern, then straightened herself once he started heading back to the kitchen. My instincts kicked in and my muscles flexed with tension. Any move on my son and she'll be going straight to hell.

Right before Makara entered the kitchen, Kidd called out. "Oi! You there, boy. Yes you, come 'ere for a mom't, will ya?"

He pranced over, looking at me for a second before asking, "Do you need something, sir?" My body stayed tense and my full attention on Kidd and her movements.

"Not really. Aye act'lly got somethin' to give to ya." She reached into a pouch and pulled out a little package, wrapped in clean linen and tied neatly with a knotted bow. "I heard t'day was a special day for ya, so I thought since ya work hard 'ere for yer mum and that's yer father, right? I wanted ta give ya a lil'somethin' for yer skill."

Makara looked at her wide eyed, as did I. "T-Thank you, Sir…"

"Just call me James. James Kidd", she said patting Makara's tuff hair. With an elated smile Makara rushed back into the kitchen. Then she turned to me and leaned in close.

"Ya got a really nice lil' lad there, y'know that? Better train him well. Get him ta learn well too. It'll benafit the future, his and another's. Aye."

"It will benefit only his future, _sir_", I retorted.

"Aye, his _and_ yours as well, Mrs. Merissa. I don't think I need to remind you of that at all." The smirk on her face was no longer there. Now it was lined with deep intent and dark wisdom.

Shite! I knew this would happen; I just didn't know when. God damn my mistakes half a year ago. God damn it all!

"You don't understand, _James._" I made sure to lean in close, whispering in a defensive tone. "I am no longer with the Assassins. Nor is my son."

James scoffed at my remark. He eyed the kitchen door before looking back at me. "Once an Assassin, always an Assassin. That, m'lady, can neva change for 'nyone. You should know that death be the only way out of our Creed."

"Aye, and that's exactly what happened."

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><p>AN: Thank you so much for those who reviewed, followed and favorite-ed _Beyond Creed_. I REALLY appreciate all of your feedbacks and hopefully you all continue to enjoy this story going forth. Now I know I threw in a few phrases within the last few chapters that are obviously in a different language. So below are the original phrases and their meanings in English. I won't reveal what language it is yet, because that would spoil any upcoming chapters. So I'll leave the guessing game to you guys. (Have fun! :P)

**_Meak -_ Mother**

**_Apouk - _Father**

**_Kaun_ - Child**

**_Makara (name) - _January**

**_Meak sraleanh kaun nasa, sraleanh kaun rhaut - _Mother loves her child very much, she loves her child forever.**

**_Pulau Ubin_ - Island of Singapore**

Next chapter preview synopsis: What exactly made Merissa defect from the Assassins? Was it truly the war between the Assassins and Templars? Or did her leaving have a darker purpose than their thousands-year crusade?


	5. Nothing to Fear Pt 1

"Aye, and that's exactly what happened", I hissed. And our conversation ended there. James Kidd went back to sitting down one of the tables once I got her drink and I went back to serving. I didn't talk much after our little private conversation, my mind lost in clouded thoughts. Why does everything I want to avoid keep chasing me back into unwanted arms? Was Fate so cruel to let me suffer these agonizing memories or was it my selfishness for not accepting them? I wasn't sure and I still am not, but at the same time, I don't wish to think about such contradictory a topic—what a headache it gives me.

The next few hours felt like eons. After darkness enveloped the skies and revealed tiny sparkling jewels, everyone left _Nassau Taverna_ except for a still sober pirate who was starting to get me on edge. Why the _hell_ did she want to stick her nose into my business? It was my decision to leave the Assassins, to cut off all ties—why can't those so-called liberators leave me be!

As we began to clean up the tavern, Kidd stood from her seat and made her way to me, holding a now empty bottle of rum. "Where'd you want this?" she asked; her voice still in that deep octave. Just hearing her voice made something hot boil my insides and suddenly a spark of rage filled my chest. It took me all my strength not to lash out at the female pirate and yell at the top of my lungs like a pregnant woman gone wild. Instead, I swiftly grabbed the bottle from her grasp with a little more force than needed and made a sharp turn back to the bar. "Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it." There was venom in my voice and I knew she could hear it too. I _wanted_ her to hear my tone. Hopefully it would lessen her presumptuous curiosity.

Crossing her arms across her chest, I felt her gaze boring into my being. I didn't feel like talking yet and she probably wanted to give me some space, thinking that would make it easier for me to spill my insides out. But I wasn't going to play her game…no, not anytime soon. I wasn't going to simply submit myself to some other being, even if they were on a higher level than me. That wasn't who I am or who I want to become. Independence was my stride and I plan to keep it that way. A tense silence lingered in the air for several minutes, eventually spanning an hour's time. Kidd offered to help with a few things, but I refuted them all. So she stood in the same position for the time being while I and Makara did the cleaning. Sebastian had gone into the town earlier to restock on supplies.

Bringing the last of the plates into the kitchen, I spotted Makara looking at the present he was given by Kidd. It was a leather bound book, the text hand written in black script. The cover had dark gold words etched into the leather, reading _The Fine Works of Geoffrey Chaucer – The Canterbury Tales_. I remember reading one of the Tales in the poet Chaucer's collection of poetry. He was a skilled writer of his time, with eloquent rhythm and vivid descriptive imagery; one of the best works of the English language I must admit. As Makara flipped through the pages, his eyes mesmerized by the text's font and poetic style, I mind went to the present we had stashed away this morning. My God! How could I have forgotten? Today was my baby's ninth birthday and it completely slipped my mind…what kind of mother would forget her child's special day? I tried to act as calm as I could as I made my way to our secret hiding place in the cabin. As I pulled out the present, the voice in my head kept berating me. Damn that James Kidd, making me forget! Before making my way back to the tavern, I spotted Sebastian running up the little hill; his chest rising and falling as if he had ran ten miles nonstop. He put his hands on bent knees and lowered his head, trying to catch his breath before speaking.

"Ai ya! I completely forgot about today! Did you get the present?"

"_Yok haey_", I told him. I wasn't sure if I should tell him about James Kidd. Sebastian had seen her before but regarded Kidd as nothing more than a regular customer. He didn't know the flip side of things…yet.

"Alright then, let's go celebrate –."

"Wait." Grabbing his arm I put his movements at a pause. He looked back at me, eye to eye, with confusion.

"What is it? Is something wrong?"

I avoided his gaze for a moment before swallowing slowly before answering. "Aye, we've got a visitor staying late tonight…"

"That's fine—."

"An Assassin."

He stopped dead in his tracks. I could feel his muscles tense under my grasp at the word "assassin". The look of uncertainty clouded his eyes, his lips pursed and jaw firmly set. As if to confirm what I said a second time, I slowly nodded my head. "Aye, she's an Assassin."

Sebastian seemed to be thinking over his words carefully as if he were balancing on a thin thread above a hellish bonfire. "What does _she_ want with us?"

"_Khnhom ahrt min doeng te._ That's why she's waiting, to talk…"

"And what of Makara?"

This time it was my turn to purse my lips. "I'll take care of that."

After another moment of silence, we walked back together, shoulders slumped slightly but tense. I had an inkling that Sebastian knew this business somehow involved me, with my past relations. And he was probably a bit ticked off for me not saying anything about it until now, but that wasn't the case to argue out at this very moment. We still needed to celebrate our baby's birthday—that we could not brush pass—and then deal with James Kidd one-on-one.

Nassau is a place where men and women from all walks of life could do as they please with their lives and be bound by no kings, clergies or debt collectors. We came here for freedom, for safety, for peace and that's how we want to keep it. But like any other new home, a new environment is a test of survival and longevity. That was the test that we now had to face. I only hoped that we won't end up losing our own liberty and freedom, like we did back in Singapore. That, I couldn't let happen again. Never again…

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><p>AN: So that's Part I of **Chapter 4: Nothing to Fear**. Please review and let me know what you think of the story so far. Tell me how I'm doing. And what do you think James Kidd will be conversing with Merissa and Sebastian next? Let me know your thoughts! Part 2 will be uploaded by next week! Thank you for all your reviews, favorites and follows! :)

Here's some more terms to know:

_Yok haey - I already did_

_Khnhom ahrt min doeng te - I don't know (why)_


	6. Nothing to Fear Pt 2

A/N: Part II isn't completely done yet-still updating more stuff to it! So stay tuned and check regularly for updates!

*Pardoner (The Canterbury Tales)

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><p>As we neared the tavern, the sound of broken glass and the hard splitting of wood filled the air. <em>Crack! Crack!<em> The horrific sounds went.

_Bang!_ Then a gunshot went off.

We ran to the tavern, our hearts racing wildly and our mind filled with fear. Makara was still in the tavern and gunshots only meant death.

Breaking the back door down and sprinting towards the bar, I spotted an unknown standing over the body holding what looked like a blow pipe. Makara nor James Kidd were nowhere to be found.

"Who the hell are you? Where's my son?" I demanded frantically. The man shot me a look of expectancy and calm, followed by a smirk. Was he touched in the head?

"Calm ya tits, lass. Ya look like ya seen a ghost. Don't worry 'bout da lil' boy, he's with Jim ova'der in them trees. See?" He pointed towards the branches nearby. Dangling from one of the large branches were two pairs of legs, one long and the other short. I internally sighed in relief and spotting Sebastian at the corner of my eye, he seemed to relax a bit as well. Sebastian gave me a knowing look and then went off to interrogate the strange man. I ran to go get my baby boy.

"I don't understand! Why is the Par…doonar* so evil?" I hear my son asking James.

"That's cuz there are many evil people out there in the world. They'd do 'nythin' to get their riches and wants quick, even if it means hurtin' others. But there are good people out there too, tryin' ta do an honest living and make money the right way, like ya Father and Mum."

"So what about you? You're a pirate, right? Isn't stealing bad?"

Though I couldn't see her, I could feel Kidd's smirk plastering onto his face. "Not really, not if ya stealin' for a good cause."

"Makara?" I called out, worry ringing in my voice. Said boy looked down, elation spreading across his childish face. "_Meak!_" he exclaimed. He shimmied down the tree and ran into my outstretched arms, I hugging him as tightly as I could, relief flooding my muscles. James Kidd followed suite, landing in a cat-like stance.

"_Au kaun_! Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm fine _Meak_. James Kidd was helping me read _The Cantuperry Tales. _I got stuck on the Pardooner." I put on a relieved expression, but my mind raced with a thousand thoughts, trying to piece it all together. Had he seen the havoc of our tavern? Then I met Kidd's eyes. She flicked his eyes quickly over to the unknown man at the tavern. Then in an _L_ shape, the pirate pointed the outstretched index and thumb towards me. _Later_. I answered back with a long blink before bear hugging my son tighter.

"_Meak_, is everything okay?" His eyes scanned my face; those innocent eyes clouded with ponder as if he knew something wasn't in place, but couldn't figure out exactly _what_ it was. Preserving his innocence was what I wanted for my boy, but now I have inkling that that purity would be tainted later, if not sooner. Not to worry him, I pulled him into a warm embrace.

"Everything's okay, _kaun_." _For now…_she thought to herself. _We can only pray._

The three of us walked to the tavern. Sebastian was still talking to the stranger; his eyes narrowed with confusion and face pale as snow; seeing his expression like that made my heart sink. Had our safety and secrecy been compromised? Is there now a hunter out there waiting to eradicate my family one by one, in the most painful way possible? Worried thoughts and angry verses raced in my head, about my husband and about our son…our baby…

Makara let out a loud gasp, confusion and surprise overwhelming his being. "W-What happened here?"

Taking a closer look, the once neatly organized tavern was now a catastrophe of glass pieces and splintered wood sprawled about. Sharp edges protruded everywhere lining the floor with artificial nails. I made sure Makara didn't step over any of them.

James made his way to the stranger, but didn't interrupt the conversation between him and my husband. After what felt like hours, though it were a mere five minutes, the trio dispersed from their huddling. Sebastian came to hug Makara while Kidd and the stranger talked quietly to each other.

"God kiddo, you okay?"

"Yes, _Aupouk_. But what happened here?" he demanded, cheeks slightly pink and eyes glistening for answers. Sebastian ruffled his hair and planted a kiss on his forehead. "It was just a robbery. But we're all okay—that's what matters the most."

The rest of the night went by rather peacefully, though a choking silence lingered in the background. We all cleaned the mess (after the two assassins disposed of the body) and swept the entire place again, making sure the blood was washed away entirely. Then together we celebrated Makara's birthday. The moment we gave the present to him, with his quick little hands he tore away the outside wrapping and discovered a new notebook and an ink set with quill. It was a simple gift, but one that would suffice its purpose no less. Now with a novel, a notebook, ink, and our teachings, Makara's knowledge will surely expand from here. It wasn't a library or a full-sized school, but it was good starting point.

Once the little rascal was asleep, Sebastian and I went right down to business.

"You're both Assassins…" That came out more like a statement than a question.

"Yes", Kidd answered. The stranger nodded as well.

"Well, where are me manners? Name's Alexei Winestein, and ya prob'ly know this fella 'ere", Alexi said with an outstretched hand. Neither of us had the patience for shaking hands, which he picked up on quickly. "Alrighty, that's fine too."

"State your business", I spat at the two. By now my anger had resurfaced, boiling my blood at the forefront of my head. "Why the _hell_ did you keep trailin' me, James? Is that even your real name, _lass_?" I could feel Sebastian giving me a questioning look. He only knew James Kidd the Pirate, not James Kidd the cross-dressing, Assassins-affiliated adventurous female.

The pirate-assassin quirked a semi-smirk before answering, "To be blunt, we're lookin' for new recruits. But more than that, Aye see som'thin' in ya _lass_. Ya got a kinda talent the way ya carry yarself, man handlin' yer own family, a business, and—", she paused and pointed her chin to my forearms. "—bein' an Assassin all on yer shoulders. But from what Aye seen so far, ya ain't with them Assassins anymore. Why's that?"

"And why should we trust you with such information?" Sebastian questioned this time. From the looks in his eyes, he wasn't completely sold on their story, despite their factuality. I couldn't agree more.

"Oh, believe me, yew two can trust us", Alexei started. "Cuz every otha crack head on this island and the next one down only look out for themselves. But we're diff'rent. We look out for owa kind. We take care of each otha. That makes us diff'rent."

"Aye, and we be willin' ta offa ya that…our protection, for yer family. But ya gotta trust us, Merissa. That's all the Assassin's we want from ya—trust."

I looked at her wearily, pondering whether or not to spill out everything. I knew I could trust them to some degree, but no matter; I had to be cautious. Although they were Assassins, I couldn't trust anyone—not completely. We had no ties to the West Indies and no one here knew us personally. If they wanted to, they could easily kill all of us in one fell swoop and leave not a trace for the world to reminisce. It was like walking in fire…only the flames are ten times larger and hotter.


End file.
